World War 3
by Demoness Drakon
Summary: It's World War 3, and instead of having the various armies in the world duke it out, the countries are literally fighting each other. Various pairings, some OCs, and all the joy that comes with Russia. Time for a worldwide game of man hunt...
1. Chapter 1

******Drakon here; and I'm actually trying to undertake a new story (For once). So, this was created from a conversation I had with B O S T O N Tea Party about a month or so ago. And it became this...  
I fail on so many levels with writing this...  
Don't own, don't sue.**

* * *

_Why do these things always happen to me? _Matthew thought as he rounded a street corner, a bullet barely missing his head. He was being chased (Not to mention shot at), through the streets of some small town outside of Vancouver at night, by Cuba of all people.

"GET BACK HERE AMERICA SO I CAN SHOOT YOU!" If it had been an earlier date, Matthew would have turned around and sworn up and down that he was Canada and not his brother, but this time it wouldn't have made a difference. More shots rang out, one bullet nicking his left arm; Cuba's aim was getting better. Matthew was starting to tire out; he'd already been sprinting through the cold slush for 10 minutes, and it wasn't doing his respiratory system any favors.

_Maple! This isn't good, what am I going to do? I won't be able to keep running much longer… _In a last ditch effort to try and evade the Cuban, he turned left onto another street, turned right into an abandoned alleyway and then took advantage of the fact that there was an empty dumpster and hid in it, closing the lid after he had jumped in. The Canadian panted a bit and tried to ignore the smell of what was probably that day's garbage and the pain in his arm.

_I'll sit here for a minute or two and catch my breath… _He sighed and let his head rest against the metal wall of the being used to the cold, he wasn't used to running at top speed in the cold. He didn't have much of a reprieve though.

"America, I know you're hiding around here somewhere! Come out already!" Matthew held his breath for a few moments, hoping he could just turn invisible like he always seemed to do. Twenty seconds later, there was no gunshot, only various curses in Spanish and mutterings about 'damn Americans hiding in cold places'. After five minutes of hearing nothing, Matthew deemed it safe to climb out of the dumpster. Staying close to the walls, he peered around the corner in both directions. No Cuba, nor any other crazy person that would mistake him for America and try to kill him.

"Dieu merci…" He sighed in relief before walking out of the alley. Snow was just beginning to fall so he pulled up the hood of his heavy overcoat; the added advantage of the hood being that it made him even more invisible than usual.

_That's the third time this week someone's tried to shoot me, and the fifth time that I've been mistaken for Alfred. Ugg, stupid Al, always getting us into a mess. _Matthew kicked a random snowdrift, pretending it was his brother's ass. _It's his fault that everything has gone to hell anyway. _

This was actually true; Alfred had been the driving force behind the world's current situation. In fact, he had been the one to propose the idea actually. It would save human lives, contain the spread of communism, and most importantly, keep a nuclear war from occurring. The real reasoning in behind the idea, in Matthew's (And probably the majority of the countries') opinion at least, was so Alfred could play hero. Of course, his boss was to glad to accept the idea so, they wrote up a proposition to show to the UN. The Non-War Treaty proposed that there would be no more international military conflicts between any of the countries who had signed, and that the personified countries would instead fight it out between one another. Of course, the only thing the public would be told was that there would be no more wars, and that the UN would only use diplomacy to solve disputes. Every world leader present endorsed the plan immediately.

The idea was less accepted between the actual countries though, actually, the majority of them absolutely hated it. Countries might not die as easily as humans, but that didn't mean that they couldn't die, or at the very least get badly hurt. None of their bosses took the time to consider that though; no humans would die, so why bother to consider other possibilities? Besides, without the plan there would have probably been another war, a war with nuclear missile strikes. According to Japan, no country would ever want to suffer those.

Almost immediately after the treaty was signed, Russia had his former satellite countries under his boot once again, with China, the Nordics, Cuba, Turkey, and North Korea backing him up. America, well, he just claimed everyone who wasn't on Russia's side and hadn't declared neutrality his ally, which automatically made a country a target.

Of course, the countries with America weren't so keen on the idea in the first place, they bosses had been but they sure won't. The older ones like England and France were wondering how inflicting damage upon themselves affect their cities, and by extension their people. Germany, Italy and Japan were concerned what would happen if they actually did die. What would happen then?

In a literal war between countries, no one was sure anymore. Poor Matthew definitely wasn't. He had been on good terms with most of the other countries (The ones that noticed him at least) before this whole thing started. Now, he was just another target to Russia's cronies, a target that looked remarkably like America. Sighing, the Canadian kept trudging through the snow. Ten minutes later, he had arrived at the motel he was staying at for the night; after nearly being blown up in his own home, Matthew had felt the need to keep moving around.

The room itself was rather plain, generic watercolor prints acting as the only decoration. His bear, Kumajirou was just sitting on the bed, apparently watching the flickering TV across from it. After locking the door, all five or so locks on the door actually, Matthew removed his heavy outer coat and just plopped down on the ratty mattress next to his pet and was trying to figure out why the bear was so enthralled by static. His trance was quickly broken by a rock-and-roll version of 'God Save the Queen', someone was calling his cell phone. Needless to say, he answered it.

"Hello?"

"Matthew is that you? It's Arthur." The Canadian suppressed a slight laugh, he had already guessed that since he had set his phone to play the Brit's national anthem whenever he called (He had done that with everyone's numbers just for the heck of it one day).

"Yes, what's going on?" Matthew could make out the sound of arguing in the background, as well as some rather crude language. There was a rush of static as England sighed.

"My brothers are visiting." That explained the shouting "They say that we should stick together now with all this madness going on," Matthew could hear the shouting in the background increase in volume, enough that he could make out some of the argument. Something about shagging a sheep? The Canadian could practically feel England's irritation, even though they were just talking on the phone. "Pardon me for a moment-ANGUS, SHAMUS, WOULD YOU TWO STOP BICKERING FOR A BLOODY MINUTE? I'M TRYING TO USE THE PHONE!" Matthew couldn't discern what was said next, but he definitely heard the crashes and various swearwords after that. And he thought getting along with his brother was difficult. After a few minutes the shouting stopped. "I am so sorry, umm…er,"

"Matthew." He had to keep himself from sighing; England had forgotten his name again.

"Yes. Anyway, I called in to make sure you weren't dead. Alfred's been text messaging me every ten minutes asking if I've heard from you at all. The bloody git hasn't shut up about how 'Mattie hasn't called me' for the past three days." Matthew just shook his head. Typical Alfred, thinking that his little brother couldn't take care of himself and was always in need of a hero.

"Just tell Al that I'm doing fine, and that he needs to stop worrying." _And that I'm not damsel-in-distress. _

"I shall pass that along to him, and do me a favor and just call him every once in a while. He's really getting my nerves." That was when there was an exceptionally loud crash on England's end. It was probably really valuable, really old or both because the when Arthur spoke again, it was rather obvious he was holding back a rather large explosion. "My apologizes but I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut our conversation short, good bye." Matthew heard England shouting at his brothers in some odd bastard language before he ended the call.

"What's the world coming to Kumichiki?" He looked at the animal, like he expected him to answer. But the polar bear just ignored him, as per usual.

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**Well there it is; I'll update whenever I damn feel like it. Honestly; I will. And it mostly depends if I want to write...I hope I didn't waste your time with this...**


	2. Chapter 2

**What do ya know, I actually updated! Yay...  
So yeah, don't own, don't sue. And for the record, Berlin does actually belong to me**

Ivan always knew that one day everyone would bow down to him, and now the goal was in reach for him. With the Non-War Treaty in place, it just made it less messy, yes? He hummed a little folk tune as he walked through the halls of his house, though mansion would be a more proper term. Russia's 'family' had gotten much bigger within the past few years. As he was passing by the threshold for the foyer, he noticed Gilbert standing at the door, pulling on his coat, like he was getting ready to leave and in a hurry too. Why would he be leaving so quickly?

"Gilbert, where are you going?" The platinum-haired German jumped a bit, startled. What was he doing that would cause him to be so jumpy?

"I'm going out for a drink." Gilbert muttered; keeping his face turned away from Ivan's. The Russian's smile vanished. He grabbed the German's shoulder, turning him around to face him.

"Going out for a drink, Дa? Is that all you're doing?" The ex-country pushed the hand off his shoulder and muttered something incomprehensible.

"What was that Gilbert?"

"Ja, das ist alles, Russland." Gilbert replied loudly, and not to mention in German. Not facing him, referring to him as a country and speaking in his own language; how disrespectful, especially to a host as nice as him. Ivan grabbed the shorter man's chin and made Gilbert face him.

"Answer in Russian, Kaliningrad." Anger flashed momentarily through Gilbert's red eyes, before he looked directly into Russia's eyes before replying.

"Ich bin das Königreich Preuβen, Kaliningrad ist mein name nichts." The temperature in the room dropped, enough that one wouldn't bother with Celsius or Fahrenheit and just go ahead and use Kelvin to measure the change. The Russian's face was expressionless, an expression that could only be described as 'calm before the storm'. Even with the fast reflexes he had picked up from years of fighting, there was no way Gilbert could have avoided being slammed up against a wall by a very, very pissed off Russia.

"I said to speak in Russian, Дa. You will speak in Russian." Gilbert just laughed, and continued in his own language out of spite more than anything else.

"Nein, ich will auf Russisch nichts sprechen." That just earned the white haired man a heavy blow to the face, nearly fracturing his jaw. It didn't stop there though. Ivan kept throwing punches, the majority of them hitting the smaller man in the stomach. Lucky for Gilbert, that was when someone else chose to walk in.

"Hey Gil-Ivan, what the hell are you doing?" Russia paused mid-punch and turned around. Matthias, otherwise known as the Kingdom of Denmark, had just walked into the foyer, his overcoat in hand and Norway behind him. Gilbert took this opportunity to move out of Ivan's reach, and next to the pair. Ivan's stance relaxed and he smiled.

"Gilbert and I were just having a little discussion about respect." Matthias looked at Ivan, and then at Gilbert.

"Geez Gil, did ya have to disrespect the guy? Sorry Ivan, I think he's been having booze withdrawal; he hasn't had a good drink for the past few weeks. Can Jan and me take him to get a few pints or something?" Ivan kept smiling, it didn't take a genius to figure out something was up.

"Of course, Дa. Please, make sure that you three are all home by midnight." That was all Matthias needed to hear before he grabbed Gilbert by his wrist and rushed out the front door with just a quick 'bye Ivan'. Norway followed, mute as always. The Russian stood still for a moment before calling for Toris and Natalia. He was drinking out tonight.

* * *

The pale-haired trio didn't have a very long trip to the nearest bar. Ivan at least had enough sense to keep his huge mansion close to civilization, though why he chose to have his house near St. Petersburg instead of Moscow is unknown. The most common theory was that he just liked being near a place where he could easily find contraband items (Long story). The two Nordic countries were scolding Gilbert the walk there.

"Gilbert, you know that the guy is unstable! If you keep tormenting him, he's going to lock you up in the basement like Siberia and-"

"Ich weiβ!" Gilbert shouted. "I know! I've been stuck here longer then you have, so of course I know!" The man put his hands in his coat pockets and slouched over. Matthias patted him on the back, and Jan, well, he tried to look sympathetic.

"Sorry Gil." The German just made a 'tch' noise, like he didn't believe that.

"You and the other Nordics at least had a choice; the fucking NATO people made the choice for me back in 1945." The three walked in silence for a moment.

"I pity you man, and all of us don't like this anymore then you do," Matthias paused for a minute before continuing "Which is why the two of us are going to back you up on whatever the hell you're up to." Gilbert froze, and tensed up before looking at the two Nordic countries. Denmark flashed his trademark smirk and Norway just nodded in agreement.

"You've got us for backup whenever you need it Gilbert, I swear on my pride as a nation." That was a large swear for Denmark, one that promised he wouldn't betray him. The former country couldn't help but smirk.

"Nice to know you guys are on my side."

* * *

Blauchen never did like the cold. Honestly, if she wasn't trying to help her friends, she'd be back home in her room curled up in a blanket with a cup of tea not caring about the world. But life never worked that way. So now she was in some cold disgusting bar, with only vodka to drink and no beer. Madness, why no beer?

"Hey there little one, where are you from?" The blonde girl turned to see a rather tall, dark-haired man staring down at her, speaking in Russian. This was another of the many moments she wished she had her brother's talent for intimidation.

"Fuck off." Then again, what she lacked in scariness, she made up with her mannerisms and a small pistol she had gotten from Switzerland (Lucky for her, the bartender was in the bathroom). Her Russian might have been a bit off (She had only a few years of study with the language), but she got the message across. Needless to say the man backed off with more haste then is generally polite. She sighed before putting her gun away and resuming drumming her fingers across the table. A flash of white-blonde appeared in the corner of her eye caused her to look up and spot her contact and two very pale blondes she didn't know. The three of them apparently noticed her, took up the vacant spots at her table and greeted her.

"Gutentag Blau." She repressed a smile and pointed at the two blondes,

"Was sind ihren name?" The taller and spikier-haired of the two blondes just looked confused.

"Hey Gil, what'd she say?" Gilbert laughed as he shook his head.

"Auf Englisch Blauchen, sie versteiht Deutsch nichts." Blau nodded before repeating her question in highly accented English.

"What are their names?" The spikier-haired one was the first to answer.

"Oh, I'm Matthias, otherwise known as the Kingdom of Denmark, and this little twerp next to me Jan, aka Norway." All that statement got Denmark was a punch in the arm from Norway. The smaller man then asked Blau his own question.

"I think the same question applies to you. Who are you?" Gilbert took it upon himself to answer for Blau before she even opened her mouth.

"This is Blauchen, aka Berlin." Denmark blinked before leaning to get a better look at the girl.

"Wow, seriously? I thought Russia had Berlin locked up." Blau shook her head.

"Nein, nein. I'm the Western part of Berlin." The Dane was still confused until Norway chose to clear it up for him.

"The Berlin living with us is the East half." Both Germans nodded yes.

"Ja. That's Rottchen. When West and I were separated, Blau stayed with him and Rottchen and I went with that fucker Ivan." Gilbert left it at that. They sat in silence for a few moments until Blau reminded Gilbert about what he was supposed to be doing.

"Oh yeah, hold on a minute." The white-haired man rummaged around for a moment in his coat pockets before pulling out one of his journals. "Here you go, all the information regarding Ivan and his allies for the past month." Blau took the small book before stowing it in the inner pocket of her coat. Denmark couldn't help but smile.

"So that's how Ivan hasn't been able to top Alfred, you've been giving him information this entire time haven't you Gil?" Gilbert nodded, and Matthias laughed for a moment before taking out a small red item, a flash drive.

"Well, I think I can contribute to that. This little beauty has the whole floor plan of Ivan's place; and the locations of all of the hidey-holes, and nuclear sites he and the other nations have. Ol' Sweden got into Ivan's computers last week and gave this to me to hold onto and pass on if I ever got a chance. Checked it out too, no nasty Russian-virus surprises on it." Blauchen was about to thank him, but Gilbert kept her from speaking.

"Why would Berwald willingly give you that? Actually, how would have he even gotten into Ivan's computer when the firewall is build specifically to keep anyone but himself out?" Gilbert said; the suspicious tone in his voice was obvious. Berlin and Norway were confused, but it was the girl who figured out why Gilbert was saying that. A tall, purple-eyed man had entered the bar with a very scared looking brunette and a pale blonde girl. Matthias paled to white, he wasn't expecting this to happen.

"Oh shit...I'm a fucking idiot, a fucking idiot…"

"Verdamnt…this isn't awesome." Gilbert swore under his breath. Matthias kept swearing under his breath. Jan on the other hand just kept looking down, trying not to look scared. Blau glanced at the men, looking for some sort of signal. Her brother caught the look.

"Count to three when I say so, than get the hell out of here." Gilbert said, looking dead serious. He was going to do whatever he could to make sure the girl got away.

"I'm sorry." Matthias passed the girl the flash drive, sadness obviously in his eyes. "Get that to America, ASAP. Sooner he gets this, the better for all of us."

"Danke schon Matthias und danke schon Jan." Blauchen gave the two Nordic nations a small smile. Gilbert patted the girl on the shoulder.

"Start counting Blau."

_Eins... _Ivan looked over at the four of them and waved.

_Zwei..._ He started walking over with his lackeys in tow. The girl, Belarus if she remembered correctly, had a rather lethal knife in her hand, and the other one, Lithania or something, was reaching for what was most likely a gun.

_Drei!_

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**Yeah, yeah, I know. Cliffhanger; whah. Er, to those of you who speak German with any fluency whatsoever, did I get the German parts right?**  
**I think the German used is rather obvious here...**  
**Don't worry, I don't pair OCs with countries, and Blauchen won't be around a good while.**

**Meh, I'll update whenever I get around to it.**


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